The Writing Desk

It was a normal, everyday Spring Thursday, and I had just arrived home after a grueling 55 minute commute which had totally drained whatever energy I had left completely out of me. Every day this week traffic had been bad, the result of some of the endless "improvements" the Department of Transportation felt strong enough about to extend into rush hour.

I went inside my modest townhouse, kicked off my shoes, snapped open a brew, and settled into my easy chair to relax. Like a bee to honey, I heard my wife Patty coming downstairs, and I smiled when she entered the room.

"Do you like this blouse?" she asked with a smile, posing in the blue tinted simple shirt. It was nice, nothing special, but she looked good in it. "Yes, I replied, it's nice, honey."

"I though I would wear it to dinner Saturday night," she said.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Where? You are taking me to dinner, silly," she replied. "Don't you remember, you promised. We're going to Seaview."

Oh, yes, I think I did ask her, but that was a couple weeks ago after she was complaining we don't go anywhere anymore. It was a throwaway comment to get her off my back, cause it seems like she's always bitching me about something. The yard, the painting which needs to be finished, the car that needed an oil change, not getting a big enough house allowance, you name it.

We had been married 18 years, and truthfully, between work and volunteer work and the kids and work and church and work and, well, you get the picture, we had grown artfully apart in some ways and our lives had become routine in others. Yes, we love each other. But some might not know it.

Our love life was in a drought. When we were just married we made love five, six, seven nights a week, sometimes a couple times a night. After a couple years we got into the few times a week mode many couples do, as life gets in the way of pleasure. But we always made a habit of Saturday night being one for pleasure, and at least one other night a week. Sometimes I would go into work a little late, as she'd humor me with a quickie to remind me of how wonderful (!) I was.

But in recent years sex had been hit or miss. On anniversaries, birthdays and New Year's Eve. Seldom in between. I would be lying if I said we averaged once a month. Some of it was fantastic, but more often than not I felt she was putting out for duty rather than pleasure. Oh, sure, there were times where I could tell she really wanted it, that she had a fabulous orgasm, but the majority of the time it was sex for my sake, and not a lot of that.

In recent months I had attempted to rekindle the flame, a romantic weekend here and a bouquet of flowers there. A nice dinner here and there. It didn't really help my sex life, except that she had humored by with a couple of impromptu hand jobs for no apparent reason. Depressing, actually, but I guess the routine had become routine. Or something like that.

"Rob????. You are not listening to me," she barked, snapping me out of my slumber. "You didn't forget about dinner, did you?"

"No honey, I remember, and that blouse looks nice."

"Okay, okay, but you seem so distant lately. We never talk."

What could I say. I was tired of talk. I wanted action. My secretary was 20 years older than me, but every once in a while I fantasized about her being bent over my desk. Geez.

"Honey, work has been tough, I'm sorry. We'll have fun this weekend, for sure. In fact, if you haven't started dinner I'll run out and get us chinese, what do you say."

"Okay, hon, go ahead. Oh, and by the way, I have something I want to ask you, but it can wait."

Oh, heck, I thought, whenever she asks, it drives me crazy or costs me money. Well, it can wait. I am in no mood for any of her Feng Shui, crystals, homeopathic healing or magic charms talk, and our bankbook was not exactly exploding. Other than a round of golf here and there, and our week of vacation at the beach, not exactly living on easy street. But my job was good, even though the lack of exercise gave me a bit of a love handle. Patty did some volunteer work tutoring some teenagers, proudly driving around in our two-year-old minivan with the "Patty's Jeep" license plates. No, it wasn't a Jeep, but it was a Chrysler, and the plates were a reminder of the vehicle she had through her 20s.

She found the time to work out a couple times a week, keeping in a size 10, a good if not a model's figure. She had nice breasts, 34Cs, and a special pear-shaped ass that I loved to hold on to...when she let me.

After dinner we had settled into West Wing, when, during a commercial, she asked if she could have a few hundred bucks to buy this writing desk she saw at Bombay Company. "It's beautiful, it would go wonderfully in the study."

She was pissed. "Wait a minute, you make it sound like I am a whore, you bastard, I do a lot around this house, wait on your hand and foot."

I don't know what happened, but I exploded. All of my frustrations came out at once.

"If you were a whore I would be getting my dick taken care of, that's for sure, a whole lot more than it is, you bitch."

She started crying, and I just can't stand that. I felt like a jerk. I tried to hug her but she pushed me away.

"Aw come on, honey, I didn't mean it," I said, not knowing that my look and tone showed her I really did. I started thinking that I am constantly getting on her case about things, probably because I am so sexually frustrated, but I was sorry to hurt her.

We settled back to the show, on opposite sides of the couch.

Afterward, she said to me again, pouting, "I really want that desk, it's small, it looks great, and it's only $399 on sale."

After a pregnant pause, I replied, "I really want some sex."

She shook her head in disgust.

"You do treat me like a whore when you say things like that."

I nodded, "Sorry, but what can I say? Put out and you can have your desk. How about Saturday night?"

"You mean if we have sex and dinner I get the desk?"

"Yup. And the agreement is for sex in the van, before or after dinner. No idle promises. No IOUs. Sex on demand, payable in full before the merchandise."

It was one of those long, drawn out pauses, where neither side talks. The line was drawn, would she cross it?

"In the van?" she asked, a place where we hadn't done it in ages.

"Uh huh." I said it firmly, but I would have given in if she had asked. But she didn't.

I stared at her, she at me.

Quietly, almost without me hearing, she said: "Okay."

"What?"

"I said okay. Sex and dinner for the desk."

We had been down this road before. She had promised sex for the bed set, the television for the basement, you name it. But she usually didn't seriously take the deal, welshing out nearly every time. She'd claim it was too late, she was too tired, I hadn't shaved, whatever. And each time I let her go, never holding her to the bargain.

I had never followed the hooker's credo...get the money (or the sex in this case)...up front.

Whatever, I had a hard on thinking of the night. "You aren't going to welsh on me, are you?"

"Nope," she replied before nodding off to slumberland.

- Saturday's Blur -

I reminded her hourly about the deal, teasing her incessantly. Heck, I knew she would back out. Imagine, an old married couple still and I get less sex than a priest. Well, maybe not a priest.

After playing a round of golf Saturday, I hit the shower and walked into our bedroom. Patti was laying on the bed. "Do you want me now," she asked, coyly.

"Yes," I replied, "but it won't count for the desk. That is in the van tonight."

She just shook her head, turned over on her side, and feigned sleep.

Just after 5 I shook her awake, kissing her neck. "Get up honey, our reservations are for 6. She attempted to shake the cobwebs out, but it took a few minutes before she was totally back in the real world.

"Ok, let me get washed up, I'm famished," she said with a smile. I lay down on the bed while she showered, wondering whether tonight would be the night I'd get some. I felt like a teenager before a big date, not knowing if I would end up with a case of blue balls or nirvana.

After a bit she entered the bedroom, hair encased in a bath towel, another around her middle. She smiled at me, "Want to do it now?" I nodded my head, but added that anything before we left the house would be extra, and not meet the terms of our deal.

She rolled her eyes, and headed toward the closet. "What...ever".

She pulled out a pair of pretty cotton panties, but I told her to leave them in the drawer. "Not tonight, honey, leave them off." Surprisingly she put them back, put on her bra, blouse, and a pleated skirt which stopped just above her knees. Back to the bathroom to brush her hair, add some makeup, jewelry, and before you know it we were out the door and on our way to Seaview.

It was still light out, and when I mentioned stopping to seal our deal she emphatically said no way. It was too light, too dangerous, you name it. I just figured it would be the first of a constant stream nos that night.

Instead of pouting, I decided to let whatever happen, happen. We had a marvelous dinner, me the steak, she the flounder, both prepared perfect. I have to admit that she looked lovely. Before desert I excused myself and headed to the men's room, sitting in a stall to do my business and thinking ahead to what might be a stellar evening of debauchery. Footsteps entered the men's room, and after a bit one of the men said to the other an eye-opening comment.

"You're right, that girl has nice legs," said one, apparently following up on an earlier conversation.

My ears perked up, and I told myself to look around the room to see whose legs were so nice. At least until I heard the next comment.

"What's nicer is that she isn't wearing any panties!"

"What?" replied the surprised man.

"She's right across from me and when she got up to the salad bar I could see right up to those pretty pussy hairs!" he said. "Oh yea, that was nice."

The two continued their banter for a bit, talking about MY wife as I remembered my sans-panties order. I couldn't help my dick from hardening as I thought of their voyeuring eyes. I waited in the bathroom for several minutes, letting the erection subside before washing up and re-entering the restaurant. Sure enough, about 20 feet from my table, two men and their wives were eating dinner and one of the men had a great view of our table.

It made for a pleasant remainder of the dinner. Patty even mentioned my mood, and I just told her I enjoyed having some quality time with her, all the while wondering if the guys at the other table were gazing at my wife's legs or higher. I made sure I had my seat a little to the side to give them a table with a view.

The service was great, fast, and after filling our bellies we walked hand in hand to our car, but not before walking, hand-in-hand, past the table with the two couples. I caught one of the two men's eyes, and winked. He quickly turned his head, as if worried I would say something.

"What time does Bombay close, honey," I quizzed as we neared our pride and joy mini-van. "Ten? Then we have just enough time to fool around."

We got into the van and I started driving away from the resort and around the nearby grounds. I stopped the car twice, off on a side road once and another in a parking lot of what seemed like a deserted building. Both times we started making out, both times we were interrupted by cars (including once by a security van slowly driving by us) and she calmly said that she wasn't comfortable. But she didn't say the big N-O.

As I pulled away, she said to find someplace more quiet. It had seemed so much easier years ago when I spent numerous evenings parking throughout the tri-state area with various dates.

I couldn't believe my ears, though, because she actually wanted to go through with it. Minutes later I noticed a soon to be built housing development, complete with a main road which sported a "No Outlet" sign prominently displayed. Why not give that a try? The road was dark and we drove back, maybe a half mile, before huge signs warned us to go no further. As we turned around at the end, heading past a median strip, I noticed a little pullout on the side and pulled in. Voila, perfect!

Patti sat still as I moved toward her, running my hand through her hair. "Honey, I said, I love you. And I want you very badly."

"I love you too, but can't we go home?"

"Nope, a deal's a deal," I said. This was going to be fun!

"Let's get it over with then," she said, nearly spoiling the mood. She dropped to her knees, reached over and pulled down my zipper, and in no time began honoring my cock with her wet lips. She licked the sides of my dick, grasping the base of it and jerking me up and down. I fought off the instant urge to cum, and was basking in the wonderful feelings she was giving me.

"Suck it, honey, suck my dick."

She did.

Up and down, around and around. She held my cock and licked my pulsing dick as if it were Baskin-Robbins' newest chocolate flavored ice cream cone. She wet it with her spit, slobbering all over me, and swallowed all the pre-cum which leaked from the eye of my rock-hard cock. It was an incredible feeling, one I hadn't felt for years, as she sucked my dick out on the dark, secluded road.

She continued worshiping my cock, alternating a tongue bath with face rubbing and then good old fashion cock-sucking just like the good old days. It was a tough battle --- not cumming when my dick wanted to splatter her mouth with baby batter --- at least until we were shocked to hear a nearing car. Patty jumped off my dick and jumped back into her seat as if jumping away from a slithering snake. And although she sort of was, it wasn't my idea of a great ending to a fantastic blow job. "Honey! I cried, that was wonderful. Nobody saw you. Come on." False alarm. The wayward automobile had turned the corner, drove past us, and disappeared up the road.

I begged her for more, but it took the threat of the disappearing desk to finally ensure her decision.

"Alright," she said, moving to the back of the van. "Let's go, though. The store closes in less than an hour."

Time was ticking, and my dick was still immense from her skillful mouth job.

She laid down on the back seat, lifting her skirt up and around her hips, presenting me with a pretty trimmed pussy backlit by the moon's gentle light as she opened up her shapely legs.

"Wait," I said, remembering the exquisite sucking she recently had been doing

"You weren't finished with this."

I suspect she was losing her will to argue, because she moved up and back onto her knees and got back to work on my dick. Quite possibly the naughtiness of this rendezvous was turning her on.

She blew me, sucking my cock like a teenage temptress from a land long ago and far away. Slowly, she sucked inch after pulsating inch into her mouth. I felt my powerful dick slide deep, causing her to groan then nearly choke. She had never been able to deep throat me, but I did have nearly all in her mouth as she relaxed her mouth and took as much of my throbbing dick as she could. Then she switched over and whipped her tongue over the sensitive underside of my cock.

It didn't take much of her mouth magic, and my dick nearly exploded from her intense slurping and sucking. She even rubbed in along her cheek a few times for effect, and that just about did it.

"Honey, let's fuck," was all I said, as she floated onto her back, and I pulled down my pants, hurrying to get inside her wet pussy before she changed her mind.

I would like to say I gave her a good, powerful fucking, but I won't lie. It was awful. Oh, she was great and I enjoyed myself immensely, but I couldn't have thrust into her soaked sucking pussy more than a dozen times before I showered her insides with a gallon of pent up desire of sperm before she knew what hit her.

Patti lay below me, her hips still moving up against my loins. Her body moved while mine was spent. "Oh honey, don't worry," she cooed, rubbing against me. "I understand. I think..." She paused mid-sentence, still pushing up at me. "But I am a little horny, can you get it up again?"

Oh my god, she wants more. Doesn't it figure. It's been ages since we'd done it, and now she wants more, a doubleheader within 15 minutes of each other. Unbelievable.

I wanted to fuck her again, sure, but I am not the young stud of days gone by. I worried I wouldn't be able to get it up again, but as we slid around to lay side-by-side, I did feel a stirring as I fingered her wetness with first one, then two, digits.

We cuddled; she played with my gradually hardening dick, I caressed her cum-filled pussy.

"That feels great, honey," she said in near whisper. Her hips and pussy were fucking my fingers, which in turn continued to lengthen my dick. "Let me get on top of you."

Patti and I revered positions, and I caressed her 34c tits while she grasped my cock. She rubbed my semi-hard dick all along her slit, up and down. Her eyes were closed as her hands worked on me and her pussy, and I could tell she was in never-never land.

It took some work but I somehow was able to manage enough strength and length to slip inside her welcoming cunt. I was nowhere near as hard as I was, and in the back of my mind I worried about going soft before she came, so I grasped her ass and pulled her on to me as much as I possibly could.

She rutted against me, humping me with eyes closed. She kissed my neck, fucking me. I have to admit it was good, it was a great feeling, something I had missed for the longest time. Enhancing the act was my mind, which reveled in the thoughts of her shapely ass being pulled in and all over my cock. I somehow pulled up her one piece top, savoring her tits with my mouth. She moaned as I thrust inside her, getting her closer and closer to nirvana.

We fucked like teenagers, with her telling me to fuck harder and harder and harder. She was clearly on the edge of cumming, and I wanted that to happen like nothing else. So intent were we on our carnal actions that we didn't hear the vehicle approaching us until the high beams shot through the rear window.

Again, Patti was shocked and attempted to pull, no jump, off me, but I was too close and held her ass tight against me as I rutted up against her. Something about the debauchery must have set off a trigger deep inside her, and she somehow forgot about the flashing beams and finished herself, with me close behind, in a fitful orgasmic explosion of cum.

"Ohhh yes!!!" she cried out, "yes yes yes yes." I could see her look out and see what turned out to be a pickup truck with several youths hooting and hollering at the woman with the open top riding someone in the van. She clung to me, spent and embarassed all in one.

I, being below eye level, couldn't see anything in the external world, but as she rolled off me I glanced up and saw the truck's taillights blazing and heard the horn's honing a loud salute.

Ah, it was great!

Even the little woman gave me an evil smile after her heartbeat got back to normal.

"That was quite a romp, tiger," she said with a smile in her voice. "And the visitors, well, at first I was mortified but when you kept going you sent me over the edge."

I smiled at her, then jumped up as I looked at the clock in the front of the van. A deal is a deal, and it was 9:30. I flew into the front seat, somehow managing not to trip myself as my pants were still around my legs.